


Half Life

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My world is made of light and shadows, of twisting mist and coloured auras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half Life

I have heard it said that I do not like the organics, that this world is too primitive, that I am too high class to appreciate things.

They couldn’t be further from the truth. This world and its dominant species are beautiful, so far removed from the lifeless wasteland that Cybertron has become.

Or at least, it would be, but for one thing.

You see I am not like most mechs.

They function in the here and the now, they see only what is in front of their optics, nothing more.

I see much more.

I remember the day that, as the creation of a highly ranked noblemech, I was taken to be fitted with a custom upgrade.

 _  
“Creator?” I contemplated getting off the berth to go see what was wrong before reminding myself that out in public that would be considered rude._

I fidgeted for moment before remembering that was also not behaviour becoming of a mech in my station and settling down as the medic reran the program which would show which upgrades my systems would accept. Perhaps the first one hadn’t been calibrated properly.

“Well.” My creator had an almost resigned tone as he said that. Perhaps they had found nothing that would fit. But that couldn’t be, I was of course, constructed of the finest materials.

“Creator?” I prompted again when he did not immediately show me the datapad.

I had to reboot my optics when he turned it to face me.

One result.

We had both expected a long list, to find only one upgrade would sync with my system was a shock.

Taking the datapad and running my optics over the details made me feel a little better. It was one of the rarest and most expensive upgrades available, in a category with warp drives and battle computers, but it was still a bit of a let down, to not be able to choose one myself.  


When it was first installed and I was allowed to test it I was too excited to pay too much attention to what it showed me.

To the world it opened up.

All that I had been taught was intangible and unreadable on any sensors, no matter how finely calibrated, was laid bare before me.

It was a world of light and shadows, of twisting mist and coloured auras.

It was disturbing.

Disorientating.

It took time to work out how to move, how to function when nothing looks the same.

It was a good thing I had got it down to a fine art by the time Megatron ordered the Towers destroyed.

For surely the amount of noise I made in the first few orns would have given me away in my missions.

At first simply navigating the halls of my home had been a chore.

 _  
“Mirage.”_

Turning around I deactivated my mod to regard my creator, he was staring right at me even as I materialised, a look of disapproval on his faceplates.

“If you must stumble around like a coding junkie from lower Kaon, could you please do so in your wing, I am trying to work.” That said he smartly turned round and disappeared back into his office.

I sighed before turning round, activating my mod and watching as the walls faded into the silvery mist which surrounded me.  


Now though I have it down to a fine art.

Walking down the halls of Diego Garcia I hop over a small bright white light with a tight green aura; human, disciplined, soldier most likely.

Turning the next corner I flatten my chassis against the wall as a blue white aura almost collides with me, at the centre of the aura is a small pulsing blue ball, waves of blue light rippling outwards. And from the rapidity of the pulsing I can safely say that the mech in question is Sideswipe and he’s in trouble.

My guess is born out as I once again hug the wall to avoid a low slung, rather compacted light as it follows Sideswipe's path. With the audible cursing I don’t need to look any closer at the energy field to know that the second mech is Wheeljack.

Entering the rec room I am dazzled by the different lights, human technology glows dully, the energon dispensor in one corner is like a miniature supernova, and dotted around are mechs and humans, energy overlapping in a confusing tangle.

This wouldn’t be too bad if it is all I could see.

 _  
I was bored. Utterly bored. Did my creator not realise there is a limit to how much kneeling and praying a youngling can do. Activating my mod I slipped from my creator’s side; he was still praying to Primus and didn’t even twitch._

Moving into the main entrance to the Temple I was simply watching the priests go about their business when I noticed that there seemed to be several sparks hovering nearby. Edging closer I frowned when I couldn’t detect the hum of any systems.

Dropping my cloaking I waved a hand through the empty space in front of my chassis.

I felt my own spark speed up as I reactivated my cloak, the sparks once again clearly visible as they hovered in place.

Reaching out a shaking hand towards the orbs I watched as they shifted away from me, gliding towards the ceiling of the Temple.  


Every thing I had ever been taught said that sparks returned to Primus and the well of all sparks once the chassis went offline.

What I can see defies that core belief.

As the humans would say; ‘I see dead people’.

Which brings me back to why I should like this world, but don’t.

This is where the Allspark, the container for the souls of our people, was extinguished.

Or so they say.

I prefer to say broken.

Those that it held set free.

And everywhere I go I see them.

A reminder of all that is lost and can never be.


End file.
